Safety first
by Milli Moi
Summary: Even though things may have changed and a relationship of the past will never be revisited, Bruce Banner will always keep Natasha's secrets safe.
1. Chapter 1

This was stupid. Natasha did not understand for the life of her why, after working for SHIELD longer than she cared to remember, she had to rewrite her medical file. She couldn't deny that Banner being the second Doctor – the one who read over the stuff, checked it off and told the big guys what you were lying about, although there weren't exactly any big guys bigger than Bruce on a bad day, as much as Tony delighted in the fact that could be a euphemism.

She remembered back then, during their hunt for the tesseract, when she had first casually called Bruce 'the big guy', and Tony, who seemed to enjoy getting up in everyone's business, jumped on the right thread.

Of course, the team had recently seen what would be christened the lullaby, used for the first time, but they didn't know that the lullaby worked due to a bit of trust and coercion which had happened behind closed doors. She hadn't slept with a man – or woman – simply for the pleasure or the emotional ties for a very long time. It had been nice, even if a lot of the time Bruce was focussing on the fact he had yet to lose control in a green-tinged way.

Oh, how things had changed.

She hadn't been alone with Banner since the whole pushed-him-off-a-cliff thing and she knew that things were, well, tense to say the least between them. Bruce was too good, too sweet and honest, and that wasn't a way of putting herself down. No, Natasha thought, she had done that, been sweet, honest and very naïve and look where that had got her. Besides if she hadn't pushed the guy he wouldn't have gone green and the whole of the Avengers team, or the whole planet, would have been a distant memory and a small pile of dust.

This meeting, the goings-over of her records, was all official business. They had given Bruce one of those offices that they used for counseling people after they watched a colleague blow up. She was glad they didn't get dragged into counseling much. If Natasha went there for every dead body she'd seen well, let's just say she'd replace the coffee machine and get some better magazines than _Gardener's world._

She didn't wait for the older lady who stood behind the reception desk to allow her through. She didn't usually wait for many things in life, and this woman was clearly in her sixties or seventies, looked more like an agent's grandmother than an agent. Natasha didn't want to scare the old dear.

The office was exactly like the rest of them, a tiny room which was likely a repurposed broom cupboard with cream walls and gentle green bucket chairs. It had a still life of a sunflower in a vase framed on the wall in the same place you would expect a window to be. A small coffee table sat in front of the two chairs and in one of the chairs, a brown folder on the table in front of him, sat Bruce Banner.

She didn't know whether to speak or not, to say 'hi Bruce' or to shake his hand with a more formal nod and a 'Dr Banner'.

Bruce took the lead, getting to his feet and managing to knock the table as he stood.

"Natasha," He nodded, gesturing to the empty chair.

She gave a tiny smile - the polite type – and sat.

"Ms. Romanoff, I've just got to take you through your medical questionnaire that you gave us and then you can go."

She wanted to tell him off, joke that she thought he'd know her name by now or something, but she didn't. she couldn't because he wasn't even meeting her eye. He was finding this situation tense. She needed to loosen this up before he got the body scan results before he heard another lie.

"Have you a history of Tachycardia, heart attack, stroke-,"

"Bruce. I have no health conditions. My only cases of paralysis are from being knocked out on the job or being drunk. Yes, I have been injured a lot, we all have – it'd be in the job description if there was one. My only liver problems would be from drinking, No I don't have AIDS – lucky for you – and Yes, I have had recommended treatments but I don't go with recommendations. Doctors learned in a big, secure and cheery building, they don't always realize we need to get shit done. Any Questions?"

Bruce opened his mouth and shut it. Natasha stood but he grabbed her arm. She glared at him, really, he was going to use his non-existent bulk to stop her?

"Natasha. We did the body scan, I am a doctor. I want to know what they did to you."

She pulled out his grip, she didn't want this. Bruce wasn't like the other white coats, he cared about her, he knew her better than any of the doctors of psychologists could dream of. She made it up, she ignored it. The problem was the physiology can't lie.

She headed for the door, they were not going to talk about this.

"Natasha, we know you've had a baby."

Der'mo.

She felt herself come to a stop even though she begged her legs not to do this, not to stop.

"Please."

She groaned outwardly. That was it, no more preventing herself from going. She turned on her toes and walked the few steps back to Banner. She flopped herself back down into the chair, trying to glare at Bruce, trying to look like she didn't care but the backs of her eyes hurt with a need to cry and she could feel a lump beginning in her throat.

Not now, not now.

"Natasha, the scans show you carried a full-term pregnancy. I know what you told me, and that is for another time you must have had your reasons."

"I did." She said, speaking as slow and methodical as she could.

Bruce paused. She knew he hadn't been expecting that answer, or at least he had hoped for more. She couldn't stop it from coming out, the story. She wouldn't let him think what he clearly did. As much as Ivan had been a monster he was no rapist. She breathed in deep breath for a slow and methodical answer. She could remain calm if she tried. Back when she was young she would have suffered if she couldn't hide her feelings, or worse, the others would have suffered.

"He didn't rape me. Not Ivan, not anyone. I can't have children."

She paused to look in his brown eyes, trying to show she meant it even though he knew better than to believe what her eyes told him.

"I was sterilized. You did the body scan, you've seen my tubes don't connect. I was already a mother when they sterilised me."

Bruce's eyebrows seemed to come together, a mountain range forming between them, he went to speak again but Natasha raised her own hand.

"Nyet. There is no orphan out there, she was dead at birth. I was sixteen."

Bruce's eyebrow Alps flattened out and his eyes were wide in the way they become when he had made a realisation. He reached a directionless hand onto the table. He had wanted to comfort her but he wasn't opening that old cupboard door ever again.

She was glad he wouldn't open it, because there was more for her, a larger closet inside the first. Her little closet full of lies, deceit, death and forgotten people. Bruce did not need to see that world, no one needed to see that world; not even Natasha.

She swallowed, forcing the lump down like a pill that didn't want to go.

"I think that is all you need, Doctor Banner. Don't go searching, there are no records of her. I prefer it that way. That way, she remains mine and I can keep her safe."

Natasha avoided his eyes as she got up and walked to the door of the cozy office/broom cupboard. Her hand was on the doorknob before he stopped her.

"Tasha?"

She didn't turn, just paused.

"That won't go anywhere. I'll keep her safe."


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N) this chapter may include some more sensitive subjects including child abuse and rape, it will not be overly descriptive but if you are uncomfortable you may want to avoid this.

"So, it is not just talking amongst the girls?" Natasha knew they were talking about her, her English was not flawless but it was good, good enough to understand the majority.

She was being held by the shoulder, Ivan's sweaty, hairy hand clutching her as if he was scared of losing her again.

"Nyet, it is in the blood, she has the VIII gene - gemofiliya."

Natasha knew that word, Ivan must have been ignorant of the English but the word sounded almost the same in both languages. She was a carrier of the curse of the Czar and his family. It was rare, she knew that the disease that undoubtedly would have killed the young Czarovich Alexei had he not been murdered.

She carried the gene, the poison was in her blood as it had been in his. Yelena was older, the second little chick of Ivan. They usually shared their secrets, their pain like the time he had taken her away, to teach her 'the ways of a man.' She had returned bleeding, in pain and inconsolable.

It had been a jibe for years, calling Natasha a Romanova because they knew nothing of her story, even her partonomic was lost in the fire that undoubtedly killed her Mama. Natasha was clever, witty and had the same red toned hair as the Grand Duchess. She had even heard they used to refer to the young Anastasia as Nastya, which had a similarity to her own name.

Of course, as a much younger child Natasha had dreamed it could be true, that she could be the true princess, as was the English word, and take her place to rule Russia, to expose Ivan and to have him executed for what he had done to Yelena and some of the other pretty, shapely girls.

Madame B sighed, before turning to give Natasha one of her smiles, the type of smile that made anyone's stomach shrivel like a prune and threaten to empty itself. She took out a wrinkled hand from her side, her long nails were always manicured and a bright red. Red like the blood she taught them to spill. Her hand went to take Natasha by the hip. She wanted to suck her skin away from the hand but she knew any sign of the disgust she felt would result in a hard slap across the face so that everyone could see the mark.

Madame's cold, fingers scrambled at the edge of the vest Natasha wore and lifted it almost to her breasts.

"Look," She said to Ivan, "I noticed this earlier, and this." She lifted the vest further,

"Up," she commanded and Natasha was made to lift her arms and have the covering pulled off of her completely.

The cold hit her almost as deeply as the exposure. She desperately wanted to cover herself but knew it would come with punishment. 'Your bodies are not yours, they are disposable and of great use to you, no shame will come of showing them.' Ivan had told them this when they were on the cusp of their teenage years, and they had never been allowed to forget it.

"These marks, she gestured with a look of disgust and the claw-like marks on Natasha's stomach. It was still a little swollen. The sight of her own body made her feel sick, the reminder that she had tried and failed to care.

"Your little Natashka, she is a mother."

Natasha dared not to look at Ivan, she knew what was coming, and sure enough just as she was beginning to think it would not come, Ivan slapped her hard across the cheek. She stumbled at the shock and at the hurt she felt on the inside.

"You are disgusting Natashka – a shlyukha. What have you done with it, this otrod'ye."

Natasha felt a strong need to throw up, how dare he?

The image would always be in her head, the beautiful baby girl, scrawny from lack of nutrition when it had been in her belly. It had the fairest of eyebrows and its hair was so blonde that it barely showed against the scalp. She would never know the colour of her eyes, they had been closed at birth and Natasha had only the heart to wrap her beautiful baby girl in a warm blanket, her father's coat and bury her in a place where the ice would keep her perfect forever.

"Where Natashka!" Ivan demanded, gripping her shoulder once more and turning her naked form to look at him.

"Fat," he sneered under his breath, knowing she could hear him. Not knowing she dreaded the day when all the fat she had gained while carrying her baby was gone.

"Mertvyy."

"In English," He taunted, smiling in a wicked way, in a twisted way. The way that made her want to trust him, to warm to him even though she knew what he was.

"Dead."

He smiled,

"The curse you carry has fared you well Natashka. Soon you will be ready for the graduation. No more accidental children. You will work effectively, proficiently and with a little more ice in your heart. Go."

Why did they have to know, she had left her baby safe, she had left everything safe and secure so that she could morn the life she would have had without the knowledge of the two people who had raised her, and raised her to despise them. She had come back had she not? She could have stayed away for ever after those eighteen months which had been the best in her life, when she had felt a hero. Stupid girl. She could never be a hero. She was an assassin, a spy, and now, in both the literal and in title; a widow.


End file.
